"He spoke foolishness," said Bill; "but, then, he was an old man. It don't matter what he said, as long as Big Jack likes you. And I like you," he added, with a grin.
"Good old chap," said the Baker, "and to-morrow, Bill, will you show us the gold?"
Bill nodded.
"Show us to-night, Bill," said Smith, "There's a good moon, and I will give you a smoke. At least, the Baker will, for Big Jack has my pipe."
Bill rose and fetched his spear.
"Come," he said, and they slipped out of the camp, and getting beyond the big trees, they were soon in the full blaze of the high moon, which shone almost like day. The shadows the trees cast were very solid and opaque; their own shadows were peculiarly black and clear-cut, and against the sky every branch was like a silhouette. When they looked behind them, they saw the big blaze of the fire like a great red eye.
"Why do you make such big fires, Bill?" asked Smith. "Do not the black-fellows ever attack you?"
Bill laughed contemptuously.
"If they saw two men of the Brodarro they would run like wallabies and hide."
"But they killed the Slayer, Bill," said the Baker.